Reincarnation Is A Go
by cosmic-owl
Summary: Flint makes a new friend while mourning an old one. Flint/human!Pavarotti preslash


Title: Reincarnation Is A Go

Media: Fanfic

Rating: G

Pairing/Characters: Flint/human!Pavarotti preslash

Summary:Flint makes a new friend while mourning an old one.

AN: Written right after Original Songs, and partially inspired by the Luke Edgemon and Pavarotti bromance that happened on Twitter a year ago.

* * *

><p>Flint is probably blowing this way out of proportion. He can understand why Kurt is upset, of course, as he was the most recent caretaker to Pavarotti, but-he'd had been Pav's first caretaker. Flint had been but a shy sophomore when they were introduced, and the weight of caring for the youngest canary had been as intimidating as Dalton itself. So as he watched the funeral from a far, Flint did his very best to hold back a sob for the littlest Warbler. Pavarotti had been his first everything-pet, friend, music critic. They had so many memories together- hours harmonizing, Pavarotti flitting around his dorm room, the feather light touches as he hopped over his comforter, nipping at his fingers. Flint scrubbed at his face, embarrassed at the tears, and took the scenic route back to his dorm. There was no need for anyone to see his scrunched, blotchy face, tear streaked and trembling.<p>

Flint turned the corner, determined to calm down enough to make it back his room in one piece. He could cry into Pavarotti's old cage cover later. But as he passed a large row of butterfly bushes, he noticed a peculiar sight-a pair of black oxfords sticking out of the shrubbery. Flint sniffed, wiping his eyes, and approached with a reluctant curiosity. The oxfords, at closer inspection, were attached to two leans legs shrouded in snug black pants. The rest of the body was shrouded by dormant branches and dark cloth.

"Hey", Flint spoke, wincing at his hoarse voice. He cleared his throat. The figure stirred, and Flint could make out fluttering eyes and pale skin. The shock of blonde glinting in the weak sun had him considering it was a relative of Jeff's.

"Are you ok?," he asked, as the other boy slid out from under the bushes. He was a tiny thing, barely coming up Flint's chest and didn't look up at him until his suit was devoid of all dirt and twigs. Unconsciously, Flint helped, brushing off his lapels from fine debris and twigs from the stranger's bright mop of flyaway hair. The other boy, still making attempts to straighten his clothes, chirped a high (if not a little nervous) "Thank you!" before stepping back, his eyes downcast.

Flint cleared his throat again, "Uh, yeah. Are you ok? What are you doing out here, you know, laying under a bush?"

The blonde frowned, but continued to fuss over pant legs. "I was tired," he said, in a matter-of-fact voice. "Do you think this dirt will come out of my suit? It's Burberry."

Flint just stared. What kind of person takes a nap, in the dirt, in a suit. In a Burberry suit. But the other boy just looks up, his dark eyes wild and glittering, and Flint kind of forgets the craziness of the situation by feeling this sense of familiarity ooze through the cold knots that Pavarotti's death brought. The blonde brought his hand up high, with a fluttering of his fingertips.

"My name is Luciano," he said. Flint wasn't sure if he was supposed to shake or kiss his hand.

"Flint," he threw back, barely grazing Luciano's palm in a handshake before the downy fingertips fluttered back to his side. But Luciano plowed onwards, beaming at their strange exchange. The touch seemed initiate stamina into Luciano, as he rocked back and forth on his heels, hands clasped in earnest.

"So, I'm somewhat new here, Flint, and I was wondering if I could be bold enough to ask you for a guided tour." Luciano asked like he already knew the answer. Flint debated the notion internally. The anguish he had been feeling before had dissipated, which surprised him. This boy-or the unusual way he had found this boy-had torn all thoughts of mourning from Flint. It was less like a balm and more like the last week had been erased and everything was right in the world once again. It was almost like there was nothing left to mourn. The thought left Flint guilty, so he decided to soothe the guilt with his most indulgent smile.

"Sure," Flint said, "and we can grab a coffee afterwards." He gestured down the path. Luciano did a little wiggle jump, like he had just completed some great accomplishment. He half-skipped, half-walked towards Flint, causing the taller boy to give a huff of laughter at his antics. As they started walking back towards the main building, Flint starting talking about Dalton traditions, side eyeing Luciano as he pulled out a yellow cased iPhone. He gave a look. Luciano just smiled back sweetly.

"Just updating my Twitter."


End file.
